


Not Far From Heaven

by xspike4evax



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13939317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspike4evax/pseuds/xspike4evax
Summary: Spike indulges in his favourite day dream





	Not Far From Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on the fabulous art work of the super talented blondebitz  
> Link to artwork: https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blondebitz/12240636/2079079/2079079_original.jpg

The sun was warm, roses and honeysuckle scented the air, the grass a soft cushion beneath them. It was quiet and peaceful and private; just the two of them. 

His shirt was open, the sun bathed his chest; warming him. Her closeness scorched him. 

He caught the end of the tie between thumb and forefinger. He gave a light tug; not enough that the knot unravelled, but enough to let the soft purple cotton of her dress slip, leaving her shoulder bare.

Her red hair was swept up on top of her hair, the sun picking out the copper and golden highlights and two lone tendrils rippled down her back, the ends brushing against the back of his hand. 

Spike gave the tie another small tug, the knot loosening and giving under the pressure and the dress slid down into her lap exposing firm, creamy breasts and dusky pink nipples; they hardened under the heat of his stare and a tingle ran through his body to hit his groin. 

The back of her dress gaped and Spike pressed a hand to her bare back, absorbing the silky warmth of her skin. His arm curled around her waist, hand cradling her hip, drawing her closer; warm, sundrenched Willow. 

Her eyes met his and Spike's stomach tightened, beyond that quiet exterior sparked a powerful passion. Her body lent into his, fitting against his chest like a jigsaw piece. 

Her lips met his in a kiss that was soft and slow, indulging in the bliss of connection and the exploration of the simplest pleasure. When his tongue touched to hers there was a trip in their breathing, an acceleration of want and need and Spike kissed her harder. 

"Spike. Spike. Spike!"

Willow wasn't annoyed and British. 

Spike blinked and came out of the day dream, finding himself looking up into Giles annoyed face. 

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Giles pushed a saucer into Spike's chest. "You're getting ash all over the carpet." 

Spike didn't respond, he just took the saucer and placed it on the arm of the sofa. He'd forgotten about his fag. He forgot about everything when he let his mind wander to a better place. A place of softness and light and love. 

It was always the same, he always imagined her with her hair in an old fashioned up-do; hairstyles were better in his day, it was what he was used to. He always imagined her in purple; it was enchanting and mystical like she was. 

He always imagined himself in a poet's shirt, the truth of him having no need to hide from her. 

He always imagined the two of them in the sun; human.

Spike didn't think much of his human self, but he knew enough about Willow to know she would appreciate that side of him. He knew his human self was the part of him Willow could love; but his humanity was long gone, the demon left standing in the dark as far away from her as could be. 

But, when Spike lost himself in the fantasy, he had Willow, and she loved him.

Spike always figured that in that moment, he couldn't be far from heaven.


End file.
